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Lunching
by Elizabeth
Bussey Sowdal |
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I
was asked to work on a project recently which had
to do with a readers’ survey on current events. One of the questions
was, " who you would rather have lunch with – George Bush or Paris
Hilton?" My first reaction was, well you can probably guess what my
first reaction was. I couldn’t choose. Just couldn’t figure out who
I would pick given those two choices. I tried to imagine what it might
be like. I imagined a beautiful fall afternoon in New York or D.C.
The leaves blazing, warm sun and a cool breeze, a hyper-hip lunch
spot, and me and my two new buds.
Hey babes! Listen, I would love to just chat for a sec about the survey
results, but I am completely, like, I dunno! I just got back from
lunch with George W. (Our Commander in Chic, seriously!) and Friend
Paris. It was definitely cool. I wore my new Eco-Green hemp/bamboo
mix trapeze dress (a big splurge for me, but I guess it takes green
to be Green! Definitely!) – just doing my part for Global Warming
by looking Globally Hot– but when in Rome babe, when in Rome.
Anyway, I am like so, I don’t even know! Lunch was a bust. I ordered
a carrotini and side salad hold the dressing, hold the croutons, hold
the lettuce, in fact just bring me a radish and make that carrotini
a double. Thanks babe. The Dub (not bragging, but we so have pet names
for each other. Sometimes I call him Dub Hon.) was trying to bribe
the waiter to get him a chicken fry and mashed like he thought he
was in Dallas and the waiter was all like, "well, we could deep fat
fry you some breaded veggie-burger if we cared nothing for our immortal
souls," or something and Paris would not stop. She was all like, "But
George, seriously, we are facing huge issues in this country, not
only with foreign affairs, but domestic as well, and if we don’t pull
our heads out of the 1950's and begin to think globally –"
George was trying to flag down the waiter, probably hoping to get
a side of deep fried Twinkies or something and was like totally not
following the conversation. I was trying to follow it, but I’d finished
my first carrotini and joined Pal W. in his attempt to catch the attention
of Hudini the Oblivious to bring me another but he was apparently
taking a meditation break or something which was just as well since
the first drink was busy blazing an organic trail to my head. Once
it got there it evidently targeted all the Stupid Synapses in my brain,
hurtling them into overdrive. I mean, I know it’s lame to blame the
drink for a faux pas, but you’ve got to work with what you have. "Definitely
Paris, if global warming continues I am never going to get a chance
to wear my new sealskin mukluks and that would totally –"
"Sealskin?" Paris sneered, only by that time the Grand Poobah of the
Kingdom of Wait Staff had finally graced me with his presence and
I took a big swig of nuclear carrot trying to buy a little time to
interpret Paris’ tone. I mean, on TV she seems like a girl who could
totally appreciate a nice pair of sealskin mukluks. But what was all
this social consciousness– all this political awareness? I did not
get it.
I had another swig of my beta kerosene cocktail and decided I was
misinterpreting her. George was no help at this point because he was
on his cell trying to text Papa John’s to bring him an Anna Nicole
Special – you know, something large, round, hot and loaded. So not
cool. I giggled imagining what Ye Olde Imperious One would think of
that!
"Yes, sealskin. They are so gorgeous. And they look perfect with my
new golden lion marmoset jacket. It is perfectly tailored because
the stitches are incredibly tiny – I heard they have a whole bunch
of little children especially trained to sew them. Anyway, it is so
perfect that it was worth the extra fee you have to pay for them to
smuggle it into the country. Very cloak and dagger too! I had to drive
my Hummer to the airport at midnight and meet this dude – What?"
Friend Paris actually threw her hands up, like, literally, and left
in a huff. I hollered at her to text me, but who knows? I need to
lay down for a minute.
© Elizabeth Bussey Sowdal
"The Girl Detective's Theory
of Everything"
December 1, 2007 Column
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